Standing in line
Quietly monitoring
The thoughts
Of moths

Grey veins
Stitched together
By bright yellow tailors
One-wheeled lines
Doing cartwheels
Down the street

Of my city

Here and there
And every
Now and then
We plant seeds
Growing benches
With men
Growing dogs
In between

The gathering
Sucked out
Of their doorway
And into
The scene

And paint it, with your eyes
Fizzing art
Dizzying surprise

Now I’ll go out
Standing on-side
Messed up
But joined
In the chorus

To my city

The all-buzz
A million lights
Plague our dreams
Trees amongst men
Stand tall
To the wind, That isn’t wind

When it’s wet
New stars are born
And wander the streets
As an army of bees

The day
Is blurred, walks, runs, turns
To ink
Splattered gardens
Charcoaled dreams

From my city